Draft inside head today,
as if brains turned mush
and leaked out an ear last night.
Checked I did, pillow
and next to bed and under. Flash
then came (seemed to blow in)
from behind, that cat
had lapped and swallowed
remains of any intelligence
I’d once owned. Chilled were
my eyes in swirls surprised,
as I looked upon dresser
seeing innards of cranium
attached to chord
of cell-phone charger.
Pull of impression,
****** me
straight awake. But
was not dreaming,
as velocity of losing mind
be very apparent.

Found one another in clean white cotton fluff
Immediate halt, Greek Theos, thematic vowel
Rock star curls, twists fell your neck, shoulders
Exquisite softness, loops eros and cotton towel

Deluxe strength, and rest of you tanned
Almost bumptious, except eyes, grin too cool
Brought into your ellipses, tremulous flutters
No names exchanged before mouths grew drool

Kiss that could have lasted conquering of Rome
What had happened to us in diaphoresis baths?
Battle of endurance ensued, gripping challenge
Whence young men in small towels cross paths

Stars belt in orbit
should I stand too fast,
so I sit back down,
enjoy astrophysical  
apperception's fancy flight.

Make my wishes upon
fallings off, this one,
that one, the other.
I wish it all away,
this pill, that pill,
the other. The spills,
the spells, the other tells
of declining lucky stars
intermittent with
shooting gratitude  
for love given and taken,
laughs giggled and shaken,
and discovery of
Pluto's big heart.

Hope still, is in course.

"You're ******* your life away Bobby," screamed Auntie Abhaya in her native tongue. Malayalam has many nuances and maybe a better translation is, "lightning currents from your privates and blast River Ganga, streaming your soul away." Dravidian poetics go as such and Auntie Abhaya seemed to have quite dramatic flare. In any case, cousin Bobby was once again, drunk. Auntie Ay, as we lovingly referred to her, in her fearless way, was having nothing of it. Worse yet, seems Bobby had funded his ****** with rupees stolen from Auntie Chhaya's purse. A storm of tears she was, in the corner of the humble hut they all resided in, in Kerala.

Kerala's backwaters wash in from the Arabian Sea. Tropical delicacies abound; markets filled with fish, pineapple and coconut groves, and an array of spice that keep the main agricultural commerce of India most enticing to the rest of the world. Yet, life earnings are hard and for some hard habits easy to pick up. This was truest in Bobby's case, though he did try and try to make his family proud.

As I was only a guest in this loving but burdened home, and recognizing a family crisis at hand, I and my traveling partner put forth finances lost to ensure our safe return to Mumbai north in Maharashtra and not embarrass our host family any longer. Though we had touched a Garden of Eden, the lesson of banishment was still at hand.

Inattentive to blackened slopped lashes,
which run coal tributaries land-sliding
from her eyes to her chin, he walks
in direct aim for an exit. She squawks

her “You never loved me,” wailings
to whom she, never loved herself. As frenzy
slams between them, violent collision
of his realization, sparks his next decision

and he stops. One hand in empty pocket,
on empty wallet, he is spun illogically
and holds second palm against door.
Lacquered eye in peephole’s furor,

is  batting on other side. He softly makes
his sweet tortured apology, “Sorry.”
You see how for pitiful poor love,
is for pitiful poor, all there to speak of.

Grubby am I to fanciful passersby
Sulky eye can't meet such sultry treat
For worn out shoes upon my feet
Divide us in classes; meek versus neat

Yet as stripped down across over town
Wherein tall grasses lay bare *****
Lies chance for me in barren passes
Just a prance away to lured trespasses

And in this sin I gladly engage
Deception tears off its coverings
For once men naked in their rage
Comes natural instinctive brothering

So hmm and ha, to you ta-ta
Your wares persuade not my cares
For shares of what not one wear
Shall decicide how lust shall fare

There you have it, there it is
What has been mine, has been his
When stripped down to naked truth
All men bear bearish brute

Show in contented rest
bringing ghosts
company wished greenly
how did you know?

Bleeding on too long
they had to be cut down
from hooks and ropes
in order of feeding.

Liars causing problems
complicated sacrament
with slickness
under blackberry briars.

Safe from hawks
stay in Juicyland
where it's prickly
free from ****.

This song triples guessed
foxy playing hard
around leafy bush
only snake does not miss.

Dance my badger spirit
agile amongst complexity
ward off and wander.
Kangaroo mouse prance.

Survival in stickers
only seasonal escape.
Where to hide from
next your sly rival?

Dipping skivvies in hogwash
Pig play, pretentions and lard
Our love such panache slosh
Not choking on what's not hard
No worries, I've hardly been scarred

Constraints of Mosaic law
On me leave nothing confined
For the little curled tail I saw
Once whipped, delectable find
Oh how I enjoy my swine

This little piggy went to market
While this little piggy did squeal
None the piggies found bargain
And even more piggies did steal
For an honest piggy, no deal

Oh in squalor, am I left to wallow
Greased pig be slippery catch
This all may be hard to swallow
For one pig, does another fetch
Stop me now, as I snort and kvetch

Venus did her thing again. There
in South sky of dawn.
Winked her shimmering darters where
fully aware, I was her pawn.
Witnessed this all did shivering fawn.

And my little deer glided. Soon
to leap then away.
Chased by diminishing stars and moon.
O so soon this break of day.
Venus left then knowing, her love astray.

Where are you waiting for unimagined?
Where am I supposed?
How are we emphasized?
When shall we remove our clothes?

Me in my ***** tatters
You in your fancy frees
If ever it did not matter
On **** beaches if it please

Remove my every pretentions
Circle in lipstick that part
Know how struck in our intentions
But why does this never start?

You gaze and stare intently
I share the same remorse
Dressed in all objection
Our clothes stay on of course

These pulls and pushes of want
Do nothing to satisfy desire
Don't chew the fat, be blunt
Throw lean meat upon the fire

I’m having naked thoughts
Lacking guilt or put upon
Stripping my imagination bare
Without a stitch, my vision sunbathes
**** and unadulterated
Soaking in clean, clear, fresh
On rock by riverside of mind’s eye
Tingling with musing sensation
View my in the buff inklings
Nothing naughty about it
I am pure creative power
Raw envisage
Breezy suggestion titillates
You just had to look
Didn’t you?

Ugly truths are just that.
Being one who speaks in truths,
constant soul searching
of poets, most artists, really
is truly alienating.

There is expression which will
inevitably have you backed
into corner by liars. Institutionalized
if your not careful.

Who did mutilate Van Gogh's ear?
Who mutilated mine? A cleft on my left.
Simply born with it. Or so,
I've been told. There is something
deeply seeded in this. Even
foreshadowing, perhaps. Now that
truth backs me further
from ugly liars, hell bent on
twisting truth. Is it greed or
embarrassment that drives lies
we tell ourselves or others.

Vincent was lucky to have his paint.
It did the driving of his madness,
into gobbed masterpieces.

This is a lie.

He never new mastery. Questioning
his own self worth constantly.
I can only imagine him awkwardly,
standing next to his life love's,
paints, pretty maidens,
and hearing over abundantly,

"No sale."

I love the liars. It is not to
my advantage to repel
inexactness, invention, untruth.
After all, I do write. It somehow comes
with the territory. The Dutch in me
won't admit to less.

Can you count the number
of times, variance of "truth" appears here?

Clue: the answer is not seven.

Plain as day is this nudist camp,
except for that shimmering
glittered one. Thank the gods for him.

Bare wooden bunks and no shortage
of spiders. Not hard to imagine
what crawls up between
planks and cracks. I won't sleep
tonight. Gonna shoot some Roman
candles, put on my own show.

Dip into the lake to escape
all the dust. Hanging some privacy
sheets around my hammock,
might keep ol' cheddar cheese toes
from lurking about. Seems to be
a fixture here. Poor fella won't take
a hint, but I'm not that charitable.

Battalions of bats will storm
from an old mine shaft at dusk,
opposite side of the lake. If I can
get glitter boy to follow me, he
may run shrilling into my arms.

I guess I'm as bad as
ol' cheddar cheese toes.

Biddable and tame, a dog's soul secretes
through woeful eyes. Mastering his master,
his manipulation, more often than not,
pays off in extra treats. Chewy bits,
kept on hand to prove love, likened to
showing of character and mien.

Dog's demeanor, wags and soulful secretions,
only on display until he gets what's wanted,
then naps.

Some lovers like this, leaving
when favors run out.

Serving each other so well,
desire beyond needs fulfills
modest bearing with one another
in love. Lying down with proverbial dogs,
I have known the difference.

Risk of fleas,
for me,
is less complicated.

Squished between bottled memories are photo's depth
Fossils hold lastingness, enigmatic time
Explorer on coal fact-finding mission, yours and mine
Blackness of glassy lumps, tremendous breadth
At the old colliery, buried history, a coal town's death

Unbounded, far-reaching reminiscence of miner's lives
Great, great grandfathers incinerated citizenry
Existence not wasted, though no nostalgia cynically
Selling souls to company store per week for fives
Faith they measured by feeding children and wives

No way out from tombs of chiseled insignificance
Pick axes, shovels sounding klinks and klanks
Started his career at thirteen, some less in ranks
What  grandpa heard: cussing, dynamite dissonance
Sounds of ancestors buried in condition indigence

Shaman buried in mud, to neck
Sipping cyclones through take stand reed
****, **** storming wreckage
Pull in precision *****, whirlwinds
Great Cloud Breaker despoil sum of poison
Resolve atomized flotsam from sea-drift
And castoffs of skies  

Bear necessitous storms, our future
Straw ******* inhale, totality of shambles
My shaman, my shaman, ****, ****
Bury in silt of your sludge bath
Looting impurities spinning about ozone
See pleas of your people, know your people,  
And bury upside down the rest  

Under rubble, let their heads crush
In murk and magnitude, diseased times
From villainy of what they have done
Conspirators pushing infracted pollutants
See fit to **** them deep into molten iron core  
Below tar, oil, silver and gold that tempted them
Free us Great Cloud Breaker from demand

As I am absorbed  
in ol' buttermilk sky,
I stand ***** whilst my bare  
feet skim neighbor's roof.
I'm pulled west, up. Setting sun
fans rays. Here, I am emitted
in nebulosity.  

I care not what
hankerings loosened, let go,
drift back to earth,
to rosy, lilied yard  
where chain link encumbered.
Clinical conclusion drawn
in misty misconception
no longer.
Intrinsic am I as air.

Spread my molecules
in scintilla of light. Yes,
even into gray of smog,
as I must admit,
to ***** parts. These
may rain acidic intrusions
in your backyard. Too  
much to assimilate?

I never asked for  
what rained in mine.
No impurities
have been intended.
Still, I must emit.
My sky awaits.
Catching next cloud out.

Her wishes are constantly
Dancing on air
Feeding on lightning bugs
Phosphorescence rubs off on her teeth
Dazzling the competition
As her twinkling toes
Bruised and bound
Point way toward
First prize
In the Dolly Dinkle Dance Recital
"Here Comes The Sun"
Sang The Beatles
Sang the beetles

Connecting night's dots of lights
I'm so often left bewildered
If I could, I surely should
Travel Milky Way unfiltered
Squishing aglow to dim although
These wantings have been pilfered
By blur of light from this night
And another man's wish differed
Star snatched crime, so sublime
Nothing and all considered

From his rib, Eve was made
Genuflecting paralysis
Stuck in half down position
Or is it half up?
Thought I was on the rise
But immobility within reverence
Aslant to benevolence
Is quirky sacred stuff
Might just as well be penitent
For entirety of mankind's mishaps
Women's too
Can't discriminate, ya know
Pleasing it is to discover
A close assimilation to childbirth
My gargantuan *******
Is as close as I can aspire to
Fertility Goddess

Holographic stew
With notes of hippie ****
Served from coconut ladles
Into your banana leaf bowl
A gift from Guru Gabigoo
For feeling his essence
He wants you to know
We are a family of light
And he is the beacon
And his light reflects through us
And if your eyes feel like spirographs
And you feel like you're going to *****
Don't worry
It's just the mushroom curry taking effect
You will feel better in a few hours
Just relax
Go with the flow
We're your family now
We love you
That is
As long as you sign here
Relinquishing your life savings
And any material possessions
Such as jewelry, stocks or bonds
Cars, deeds, access to any trust funds
And/or checking accounts
Have you tasted the Kool-Ade?
It's really cool
You should try some

Brother PJ

The Living Said
 It seemeth such a little way to me
 Across to that strange country - the Beyond
 And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
 The home of those of whom I am so fond
 They make it seem familiar and most dear
 As journeying friends bring distant regions near


The Dead Said
 We are here, finding little but existence
 Staring at your world of breath and air – the There
 Far past, only permitted glance of glass fence
 Seeing just cause, no viable way to share
 Hard but not solid distance, a depurative mist
 This knowledge not for you now, but does exist


© Piyali Basu/PJ Poesy 2013

Dear Dr. Heartthrob,
 
I’m guessing you did not know
Yesterday I was admitted to emergency
Taken from clinic in a death march
You pretended not to notice my urgency
Guess that all has to do with insurgency
 
That’s quite all right by me
My seizures are not pretty little features
The drug mishap is likely not to blame
No, they did not call any preachers
Agnostic I am and devoted to creatures
 
I have a complicated medicine regimen
Which is to be rationalized by conspiring minds
Dr. Eyes That Melt Me is a brilliant young intern
He had gizmos and probe scopes and interesting finds
He knows more specialists dealing in matters of these kinds
 
We had such intimate talks together
So I hope you're not embarrassed to hear
I’m firing you for lack of bedside manner
Though in fact you were prescriptively dear
My heart is now weak for another I fear
 
Your Loving Patient,
Poopsy

Laburnum drooped its yellowest
Dull before me, sadly displayed
Benevolence turned jaundice, yellowish
Jealousy's desire, flowering sprites made
Yellow-eyed-monsters, distrust, umbrage

His look, laburnum, fallen eaves
Sun captured smote, yellow-eyed
Uttering to himself, "Mine," and "Me"
He went on as such, yes, fellow cried
What I saw, coveting, all yellow-eyed

I think things like~

what if every raindrop was
encapsulated in a wax casing?

and what of all that rain
and all those wax casings?

would the wax coagulate
in some weird way
while coolness of clouds cover?

or when heat of sunshine
broke through, would they what?

turn into sloshy slicks of slippery drippings?

would the water molecules
find their way to each other
to form rivers?

and would the wax bank itself
in coagulated forces of gravity
and magnetism yet to be understood?

what if all the wax was spectrum sensitive?

and its rainbow reflective
properties sponged twisting
of tentacled wonder from
every imaginable surface

what then?

would all dullness slip away?

or would we all be burdened
by a way of life unknown
at this juncture of elemental uncertainty?

I stare into the filmy rainbow swirls
of gasoline floating on puddles
and wonder

when will crude discovery of
what a waxy mess we've made
of petrol dependence finally
plop upon us?

when and why?

Sling grease into pitch
of doggerel vowel

I'm looking for an "aooga"
sound that diminishes
as if jettisoned by speed of light

whipping sugar cane plantation
slave ghosts' utterances
     paean screams doused

How I wish to be one of the first
followers of Obama to Havana

footfall through tic of time
slow gaits toc of eon
     a Cold War's metrical decomposition

Aooga Aooga
     Rumpapa Rumpapa
          Shucka Shucka Shucka

Everyone is free
and so many of us swim
     an opposite direction

Gyrate feet, hips, Cuba's beaches
     smile, gaze upon maracas
          Shucka Shucka Shucka
     **** on raw sugar cane
      
      Freely
with great abandonment
     and greater ability

stuck counting dogwood
one flower two flower three
my I love this job

Where we shoveled coal into the furnace was an inconsiderable door. Behind it held ***** chubby cherubs with cherry tomato noses, whose job it was to keep the fires of our parent's liquor cabinets full. This they did to keep them from constantly beating us, but the happy distraction did not always work. So, we would pluckily go. Go to the scuzzy pond at dusk with kerosine lanterns and listen for croaks. We tied forks to the ends of canes or stakes and would gig bullfrogs for dinner. It became only momentarily mortifying, but was always a choice way of ridding our sisters and other clingy girls of our company. We'd fry the legs in cornstarch and pepper flakes and be allowed to share with the adults their beer if it was a good catch. Usually, it was. Most of forever we waited for teaberry season, always the best time of the year. Though it was hotter than Beelzebub's bath water we'd go swimming in that **** pond to reach our favorite teaberry patches. This ensured our riches and fame throughout our Appalachian village. Everyone would eat teaberry ice cream and sing our names and no one beat us on those days.

Playing jai alai with my heart
Your throw is amazingly good
Ricochet ****** ***** darts
Atria gushing as it would
Bouncing off wall into never should

I stand here mesmerized
By folly of your play
Leaving me somehow paralyzed
With brutal force you slay
"Hurled out of bounds," as game say

In your court I'm trembling
With sped rebound do I struggle
Propelled to dissembling
Will you hold or will you juggle?
My heart a mere pumping muscle

Taggers case freight car yards,

a complicated process

to choose splendid canvas. Steel

stealing is time lapsing. You

take a property, not yours.

You take flashing blink. It cooks

eyes of dull suburban housewives,

while they sit in wait

at railroad crossings. Its chicanery

is a contrivance tempting those

mother's sons. Offbeat drawn

out of the daily rides to school,

how they wish for spray paint,

to challenge their mothers'

judgements. Soon enough

he picks up his own can.

Feels that psssst.

Knows his new name.

There is no picture attached, so serious consideration
to its validity is pondered. Should I attach one?
It's always an afterthought. Dark char wafts in
from the kitchen, while I make this consideration.
****, that was the last potato too. Not another
to grate my nerves. Breakfast interrupted
for brooding, but there are no eggs. Prices crisis,
you know. Oatmeal must do. That sappy grin on
that Quaker fella's face, can you see it? It's on a
cylindric container all red, white and blue. Daughters
of the American Revolution approved. I'd prefer
something green, like a field fresh as dawn, with some
Huckleberry Finn imagery, a boy barefoot, no cares,
******* on a sheath, all buck-toothed. Can you
imagine that?

Scabby fixes on brick trinities
Nouveau riche social climbers
empty holes
rubbled interims' morning glories
rats jovial
Someone's been killing the cats

Three half squares broken open
Shorn wallpaper on each
Large machinery
downing old world's new world
Kickball is
only legend to internet urchins

Sitting on stoops
punching thumbs on cellular
apparatus for the ages
Doohickey haves
Doohickey have-nots

If there must be urban renewal
leave me cherry Italian water ice
at a buck a pop
I don't much care for
Cold Stone Creameries'
Green Tea and Lychee Martinis

Not one to believe in simple silly charm
But perhaps I need one today
To big toe, see has come wretched harm
And its nail has fallen away
Say, believe with magic powers is art
Perfection of my foot as it will
So I sink this digit in make believe ****
Searching for nail upon window sill

Goes without saying, injury thine own
When stubbed my toe brought a tear
Tooth Fairy affirmed, yet is Toe Fairy known?
Placing nail under pillow I fear
Yes, come to me now, for cannot regret
Love of a fine pedicure
As toe jam so yummy, one never forget
Be more careful in stepping for sure

He woke this morning and searched
He found only empty pastels
a basket
cellophane hay
plastic hollowness
not a single bean
jellied or baked
not one rotten boiled egg
dyed and hidden amongst hyacinths

He woke this morning and searched
He found only downy mottled tones
mother duck
with ducklings brown and yellow
at the green sour lake
He gave them yesterday's sandwich
tucked for safe keeping
from out his pocket
He avoided church
because he had no white suit
a place to shower
or a comb for his hair

He woke this morning and searched
but God was not searching for him
and he was not found
He found though
a mother duck
and shared his sandwich
He would fast rest of day through

He woke this morning and searched
only fuzzy things were found

Tide's pulsation
in conflux with moon
hosts a nexus

Rendezvous
my waters
at an hour dark

Beams
lunar reflection
is passing
Earth's
other side

My pull
is greater
than
temptation

It is
mesmerism

A magnetic
locking
of the
organic elemental

Your push
My pull
Our plasmic toll

I tell you of unknown tree, actually two
Very last existing of these
Rarest pair whose limbs bend in breeze
Cling to another where others over grew
The Bois Dentelle have nearly been slew

True, I tell you, they exist on their own
On Isle of Mauritius in clouds
Elegant dancing sprays on limbs boughed
Tilting toward extinction, species postponed
Desperate in forest for their kind to be sown

Life ever fragile has lesson for mankind
Delicate is nature, so unpredictable
Not unlike poets, not wholly typical
Obsolete, humanity's inherit bad design
Man, save Bois Dentelle, allow history to unwind

Rattan letter rack stuffed
with hundreds of coupons
like requests to the Gods
sits under shrine
called the spice rack.

Little bottles
as dusty on outside
as within,
have no aroma left.

This temple's kitchen counter
top is mustard asterisks on
ivory laminate, so reminiscent
of ancient wonder.

These late '60's early '70's
design elements, lacquered
over with grease of yesterday's
din-dins, are only indicative
of where the resident wished
to be.

Now, even India, has lost
authentic texture, alluring space
and line, in these Internet times.
Though he can still smell cardamom,
nutmeg, and cinnamon waft from
Southeast. It is stuck in his mind.

Yet, since time of his dearly
departed's passing, no sandalwood
has been burned and he only
eats corn flakes.

America has changed him so.

Nearing great compost pile,
that steamy heap,
insatiable hunger hits guts.
And I know fortitude for journey
is contained in wealth of
centipedes, predatory mites,
rove beetles, ants,
nematodes, protozoa,
and **** of wriggly worms.

Virgil waits for me, as he did Dante.
He takes form of a sowbug,
but with whole of worldly wisdom.
Shows me circles to which I will fall:
organic residues,
primary consumers,
secondary consumers
and further tertiary consumers.
An ancient pyramid decompositional
processes the scaling down
before the rising up. Each eating
excrement of another before them.

One I become with slugs and snails.
Invertebrates shred meat from bone.
Flies make airborne my bacteria,
carrying me off to feed birth of
future fungi.

I am reborn over and over.

Never more have I known
anything more Godly.
Intestinal juices of earth, enzymes
and other fermentation
taking me down,
pushing me out,
transforming trash of my existence
back to Eden.

My minotaur has mad cow's disease.
The FDA is rounding up each one
in a forty mile radius for slaughter.
They're incinerating the bodies
at the trash-to-steam factory. I hear
gunfire and wailing children. Sharon
next door is in shock. She's been
on her knees down on the lawn
mumbling, "please, please, please,"
for the last two hours. Crimson clouds
bleed into sunrise. How will we
escape the seepage?

I'll stop at the Getty for a car wash
before I pick you up. Have some
sandwiches packed.

O for the love of God,
the moos, the moos.

sidewinder meets me
coiling with hiss he rattles
make my own side step

There is tale of  Kavala
which tells of hero true
simple man defyingly hopeful
would row the Aegean blue

Did this alone to save Turks
as Bulgars were encroaching
He knew the Greeks on boats
somewhere were approaching

To Thasos he rowed trough night
darkness of waves o'er sea
Only stars be shimmering guide
Long nautical miles to be free

His muscles wore desperate, weak
yet the fisherman pressed bravely on
for love of his wife and family
He gave word, but his heart was gone

By daylight the sailors returned
Man had found friend in Greek Armada
Just in time troops did arrive
and saved the burning of Kavala

Turks rushed from their homes
to embrace with joy, Greek sailors
Yet one woman knew of a man,
the fisherman who did not fail her

And though he had sadly perished
after his long tortuous journey
his family knew of shimmering star
a hero never more so aptly worthy

It is again, plunk into pit of being
See it as is, truer than what is believing
Misconceiving notion was, still quizzed
Taken back to cage humility

Sterile, these tears, flush waves emotion
Devotion to you dear, causing commotion
Hardly do I go there, yet comes the missing
Insisting on revisiting the elicit

Still pouring over, drains illusion
Intrusion cruel, truth bearing contusion
Purge hid secrets kept by psyche's rule
Plant seeds in dry field's thought

Caught waiting for monsoon to wash over
Soak essence enduring, be nature, know her
Rain overcomes me, shell relinquished
Distinguished, I sprout again

And then, I remember once more
I am extinct

Refreshment, in form king size bed
Big fluffy pillows, sink disheveled head
Silken other body touching beside
Night's dreamless comfort, into it did glide

How exist delusion, tranquil pie in sky
Consulting limbs, spooning of thighs
Imprecise discoveries, feeling more at ease
Theories both wound in bed, confidently pleased

Gift of friends in life such blessing
Invoking divination and favor upon
Where we'd be left to guessing
Life with no friends, may as well be gone
To place of no light or dawn

Cherish each and every human
Be grateful for lessons learned
Spirit inhabiting home, a numen
No need for worry, with equal concern
Care one gives, shall be returned

We simply particles, iridescent dust
Trickling behind pushing galaxies
Place for each kindred spirit a must
Importance this, know has gravity
As people all of stardust family

So how we mold, blend, contour
Gives malleability to make room all
Truth be told, friend is loving conjure
Make magic comradely however small
Be there for each other through long haul

Velocity, mind spins so speedy
You again, where often you were not
Seeing you proves urge so needy
In flashing passes, I'll take what I've got
Hold precious memory, know its spot

Beauty as yours, emphasizes sickness
Endure side effects, as love my disease
Blood surge surrenders a quickness
Anemia, thinning of you, if one please
Burning in heart, condition an unfreeze

Then it is back to cold, as we must part
Spells trick lover's euphoric trek
Being bound to sorcery, your back art
No matter to me, as all is in check
Make me your moment, make me a wreck

Graffiti, vestige of love
Cuts marking very sign of
How I saw you then
Vandalism's when

That old elm holds a heart
Scrabbling promise to never part
Etching yesteryear
Bleeding sap sincere

Moment scorned upon tree
Traces time that never came to be
Once ever lusted yen
Now, only invocation of then

Had I never dug knife in
Happier may this arbor had been
Creeping vines overwhelm
Yours, mine, yester elm

Be so fractioned
my split personality be split
Never know who's comin' out
Kinda like the laundry mat
Does mine at the Wishy Washy

Funny how things get all separated
Whites all in a pile over here
Darks and colors over there
Breaks it down even further

Gotta lotta red
so that gets its own pile
whilst medium and light colors
be divided

Blacks and blues
just lumped together
Then it just gets all mixed up again

'Cause truth is
don't gots the dough to through
down that many loads

This riles Señorita Clarita
Thinks I'm cheap
so mostly, I end up lookin' like some
techno tie-dyed fruit basket
in girly pants

Yeah, still be wearin'
my sister's hand-me-downs
Be some hard times for
The Poet Launderette

Poised on current of splendor
Flight feathers outstretched, strong
Fledgling hears his mother's call
Brave release draws baby bird to song

Swooping beyond slipping branches
Resplendence in clear air carries
Joy of freedom from high nest
Moment in waiting no long tarries

Whisp of breeze in taking
With life pulsing heart and wings
A humming bird can't pretend
That he is at all another thing

Constant is our evolution
And rainbows do reappear
Some encircling breathtaking beauty
These ruby-throated dears

Hum and buzz of fluttery wonder
Nectar is yours for taking
Joie de vivre as you spin by me
Jouissance and felicity making

You whisper in my ear and tickle
Tempting words for me
You know my meaning may be fickle
As I find, you've set me free

Measure horizon interjecting South Asia
Hammurabi formed Akkadian Nation
Babylonian beast winged lion
upon your cajoled eyes
Mesopotamian feast
a civilization dreaming
under oil fields now known as Iraq
petroleum empowered
How history repeats
in crude circumstances
Assyrian War rages on

Have all temples been replaced by
mosques or filling stations
for Halliburton to gas up?
tanks, projectile convoys
not a winged god amongst them
unless you count Mobil

Babylonia azimuth
combustible tankers horizon
sunrise or sunset
both burn black

I am a bird chair
Bird chairs may have not caught on yet
but I promise you
they soon shall
I work well with a bird lamp

Wave at Window and Book Me
a How-To-Encyclopedia
of bird chairs and lamps
Chapter Four is all bird flags
You know how hot suburban jungle gets

Stringing lights around moon
is not  so difficult
When wind is at your back
much easier in a bird chair
And with a bird lamp

Shoe painting is mentioned
in the glossary
just in reference to
sadness your bird chair
might be experiencing

If you wish to re-floor carpet bag
bird chairs are perfect
accompaniments
Big things are happening in bird chairs
Look out for bird jet next